Saints of My HeartDammit
by Roaddog 469
Summary: Continuation of my BDS/OFC saga, it's a little warm and fuzzy, but it was the next logical step. There's smut towards the end. See A/N inside. Please review if you enjoy, or let me know if you didn't, but please don't flame. Anyway, Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

********AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ok, Ladies and Gents, here is my next BDS installment. This story takes me right to about the middle of the first movie. Honestly it's a little too touchy feely for me, but my OFC was screaming for it to get written. There is slight smut towards the end, which I hope will make the rest of the fic readable. All that said, it's the honest build-up of relationships from strictly sex to something more, and I needed to write it. If anyone is interested I know where I want to go with this. I see about three more fics before I finish my whole saga, which I will gladly post if anyone is still reading. So all of that out of the way, everyone go on and read and enjoy! ********

I was still at work the morning after St. Patrick's when one of my coworkers mentioned in passing that two guys had been found dead in an alley down the street from that Irish pub I hung out in, and my blood ran cold. I shot into the breakroom and joined the crowd gathered around the TV hoping and dreading that they would let us catch a glimpse of the bodies. I knew every inch of the boys, just give me a glimmer, a hand hanging out from under a sheet. Something. Anything.

Warmth flooded back into me when a thin well-dressed official looking guy flashed on the screen explaining that the victims were connected to the Russian mob.

I sighed deeply, and sank into the closest chair, my head in my hands, on the verge of tears. Slowly everyone drifted away from the set and back to work. Feeling returned to my legs and I made my way to a phone. I called the boy's hijacked cordless and a strange voice answered. I hung up immediately.

Next I tried Rocco, but got no answer. No surprise. Poppa Joe didn't sleep which meant the same for his employees, Rocco was probably out running around.

I got an answer at McGinty's, but it was the lunchtime guy and he was useless. He didn't know if the boys had even been there the night before, so he didn't know when they left or if they left alone. All he knew was that the place was a mess when he got in this morning. Blood and glass everywhere and it smelled like there had been a fire. I smirked to myself. Yeah the boys had been there, I was sure of it.

"What about Doc?" I asked "Is he around? I could talk to him?"

"No," he replied, "Took off this morning. Came by, dropped off a bag, took off again."

I thanked him anyway, it wasn't his fault he was useless.

I looked up as the clock, three more hours until I got off. I'd never make it that long not knowing whether or not they were involved, were they ok, or God forbid lying dead in a different alley that didn't get any press coverage. The thought clenched my stomach into knots so I pushed it away. I ran my hands through my hair, trying to think rationally. My supervisor walked in just then, "Shouldn't you be wor- hey are you okay?" he asked. "You look a little pale, do you need to sit down?"

Perfect opportunity, I thought to myself, nearly smiling, "No," I replied, my voice thick, "I think I'm gonna…Oh hell," I said covering my mouth and darting for the bathroom off the breakroom kicking the door closed behind me. I proceeded to make the most horrid retching sounds I could muster, followed by the splash of sink water into the toilet. I stood quietly for a second, mumbling 'Oh God,' in a sad pathetic voice. I walked over to the wall soap dispenser dribbling a little onto one finger and rubbing it in my eye, stinging, bringing tears. I pinched my cheeks until they colored, and I practiced my sick face in the mirror as he pounded on the door behind me.

I flushed nothing down the toilet, shuffled to the door and opened it, looking as horrible as I could. A little too effective, I think, he stumbled back from me as I shuffled forward. "Oh, God," he said, trying to casually cover his mouth and nose with his hand.

"I don't feel so hot, Keith," I moaned. "I think I might…"

"Go home," he cut me off, abruptly, then recovered his supervisory cool. "Um, I mean, you look like you might be coming down with something. Maybe you should take the rest of the day off."

"Are you sure?" I asked stepping closer to him, now just enjoying his anxiety. "I mean, I don't want to leave you short-handed," I said, advancing on him, backing him into a corner.

"No, no," he insisted, almost climbing up on the counter to keep me from closing the distance. "No, really, you should take off. We'll be fine."

"Well, if you're sure," I said, my voice resigned.

"Absolutely," he said warding me off like I was the walking dead. "Just go."

"Ok, then," I sighed, shuffling my way to my locker and to the time clock and out the door. Free to find out what the hell was going on.


	2. Chapter 2

My first stop was my place. Change out of my work clothes and into comfy shoes, jeans and a t-shirt. A quick look around to make sure they hadn't been there. I kept a spare key to my place in the bag that I kept at the flat, if they had needed to hide out, but no they hadn't been. I grabbed my extra key ring, stuck it in my pocket and took off.

Next stop was Rocco's, mostly because it was on the way, I knew he hadn't been home earlier, but who knows? I took the stairs up and knocked on Rocco's door. No answer. On an impulse I tried the knob and it turned. Pushing inside, I called out, "Roc?"

A gray and white furball with a bell attached to it's neck shot out from behind the couch and tried to get past me out the door. I knelt and scooped it up, soothing, "Hey, you. Is your daddy home? Huh? Is he?" I wandered into the kitchen and noticed that not only was no one here, but the cat's bowls were both empty. Kneeling, I dropped the cat, grabbed the bowls, filled one with water and the other with dry food from a bag nearby. Putting it back down I noticed a name scrawled on the side in black magic marker. Skippy. "Oh," I said petting his head as I put the food down allowing him to dive in, "You're Skippy?"

Getting back to my feet, I grabbed an old pizza coupon and scrawled on the back with a pen that was running out of ink:

Rocco~

Saw the news. Are the boys in some kind of shit? Where are they? Getting worried. I'll be at Doc's if I can't find them.

Let me know?

I left my home number and my name, turned and walked out.

My next stop was the flat, and it was a disaster area. The door that had barely closed as it was had been kicked open and across the open doorway yellow crime scene tape had been strung with just enough space between the strands for me to fit through. I wasn't worried about leaving traces of me. If a crime scene tech had worked the room they would have found me everywhere, anyway.

The boys' rosaries were gone from the nails where they hung by the door and I didn't see their coats. Their boots were also missing but considering that their feet never hit the floor barefoot that really didn't mean much. I also didn't see their robes.

Taking another step, my shoe splashed in something. Looking down I was standing in a puddle, and following the puddle it actually turned out to be more like a lake, originating from the toilet that was no longer there. Sloshing through, I could see faint tinges of pink in the water.

Blood.

Oh God.

Calm down. Not all that much blood. Could have just cut themselves shaving.

I arched an eyebrow at myself. _Sure,__dumbass,__right__before__they__Incredible__Hulked__the__toilet__out__of__the__floor._

My head was starting to hurt. There wasn't anything here that was gonna help me. I needed to get out. I needed a drink. I stumbled out through the tape, catching the toe of my shoe on it as I stepped out. I completely lost my balance and would have face-planted onto the floor if I hadn't fallen onto the chest of someone standing in the hallway. His hands went under my elbows, straightening me out. Glancing up from a solid body I saw green eyes and black hair. Broad shoulders matched the chest I balanced myself against until I noticed the badge sticking out of his suit jacket pocket and I tried to pull back. A cop. Oh, fuck.

"You okay?" he asked, holding me at arm's length.

I nodded.

"Detective Phil O'Malley, Mrs?" he let the question hang and my brain started spinning.

"O'Reilly," I said in the closest I could come to a brogue picked up from listening to Connor and Murphy. "Brenda O'Reilly." Holy fuck. I was giving a fake name and accent to a cop.

"Mrs. O'Reilly," he repeated snapping open a notebook.

"Ms," I corrected.

"You live around here, miss?"

"No. My gran lives down below and she heard the ruckus of the police in and out. Asked me to pop up and see what's what. She gets nervous, you understand? She's old." Jesus. I'm a psychotic criminal…not too bad on the spur of the moment, if I had to say so myself. I was almost proud.

"Oh? I could go talk to her, then."

Fuck.

My pride bubble just burst all to hell. "That's not really necessary. She just wanted me to check on the boys."

"The boys?"

Double fuck.

I'm a lousy criminal.

"Aye, the lads that live here. Two of them. Never saw them close myself, but Gran says they're good boys. Don't suppose you could tell me what happened? That would ease her mind a bit, I'm sure."

"Sorry." Yeah, right. "It's still a crime scene. You could be arrested."

I didn't know what to say about that, so I just shut up.

"Did one of 'the boys' have a girlfriend?"

He was watching my face for a reaction, so I didn't give him one. "Not that I know of, but like I said –"

"You're not from around here," he finished. "The only reason I ask is that we found a bag with women's clothes and necessities in it. She could be able to give us an idea of what happened here."

She doesn't have a clue what happened here I wanted to scream, but I didn't. Point for me. "I don't remember seeing any one girl in particular."

"Hmm," he said, tucking the notebook into a pocket, he took my elbow in his hand and led me away. "Let's go see your gran."

Oh, hell.


	3. Chapter 3

I knocked, praying to God she was home and I was thrilled when the boys' downstairs neighbor opened her door. A look of puzzlement crossed her features briefly as I hugged her. "Gran!" I exclaimed. "I was looking around upstairs like you asked and this fella wanted to see me home." I pulled back, my eyes, wide, pleading.

"Aye. Not in any trouble are ya?"

"No ma'am. Just seeing the young lady out of the crime scene." His pager went off on his belt. He pushed a button, excused himself and left.

When the outside door downstairs clanged shut, I turned to the neighbor. "Your Irish needs work, lass," she informed me.

"I know it was awful, but I couldn't think."

"Have ye seen the boys?"

"No," I replied, "I was gonna ask you the same thing."

"Heard a scuffle up there this morning. Lots a shouting and carryin' on. Then sounded like the ceiling was gonna cave in. Then it got quiet til I heard the gunshots, then quiet again. Went down half an hour after. Two dead men and no sign of the boys."

Dammit.

It must have showed in my face, because she patted my hand. "It'll be alright, lass." Using Connor's nickname for me just twisted the knife a little deeper. "They're together."

That was true. I nodded, giving her a weak smile. "Come in, girl. Have a cup of tea," she said, motioning me through the door. Murphy's nickname too. She was gonna kill me.

"Maybe later," I said softly. "I have one more place to check."

She nodded. "All right, then."

I hugged her again and turned to head down the stairs. "Oi," she cried from the top step. "You'd not imagine the parade of tarts that used to come up these stairs with those boys. Girls with no shame, no pride. Then you started coming around and it all stopped." I felt my eyes filling up. "I don't know exactly what there is between you and those boys, but if they're alive, they'll find ye, lass. Believe me."

I nodded again, not trusting my voice, and continued down the steps.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

I walked to McGinty's, hoping to see Doc behind the counter, he wasn't. Damn afternoon guy.

Just as well I supposed as I ordered a beer, walked to a booth, and sat down, my back to the wall, facing the door. I had to get my shit together. What the hell was I doing? Damn near bursting into tears everytime I turned a corner. I counted days in my head as I sipped my beer. No. Still a good week away from the weepy spoke on my menstrual cycle. Then what the hell?

Oh Christ, I thought eyeing my beer suspiciously. What if I'm pregnant? Now that was a terrifying thought. Shouldn't be. I'm on the pill. No, I decided, that wasn't it. No real basis for that decision other than it was too horrifying to deal with just now.

It was already six o clock and I was beat. Emotionally and physically drained and the fact that I was so emotionally drained bothered me and left me more physically drained. It wasn't so much a question of why I cared if they were okay, I mean anyone who had ever met them would care if they were okay. What bothered me was why I cared so much. Beyond a healthy amount I felt. This was almost obsession, this was weird, this was a lot like lo-

My eyes widened and my brain slammed a steel fire door on that particular line of thought. That couldn't be it. There were two of them, I couldn't bear to choose between them and one person didn't fall in love with two people at once. It was physically impossible. Wasn't it?

My head pounded trying to wrap my mind around exactly what the hell I _was_ feeling. I slugged down the last of my beer and was walking up to the bar to order another when the same thin suit popped up on the TV screen. "Turn that up," I demanded of the afternoon guy. He did. The chief of police was standing in front of the neighborhood precinct and talking at what looked like an impromptu press conference. "The McManus brothers are not being charged with a crime. This was a clear cut case of self defense. They will be released at an undisclosed time and location in accordance with their wishes."

It suddenly felt like the world had been lifted off of my shoulders. I had to sit down to make sure I didn't start dancing, I was so happy. The afternoon guy brought my beer and I drank half of it in one pull. I heard the door open behind me and saw Rocco walking in, looking around.

I dropped off my stool and the movement caught his attention. He waved my note at me as he moved in my direction. I took three long steps toward him. "They're okay," I half-said, half-asked.

Rocco nodded and I barreled into him, wrapping my arms around his middle, pressing my face into his chest and the tears I had been keeping in check all day broke free. To his eternal credit, Rocco just stood there, hugging me back, shushing me softly and gently rubbing my back. All the worry and stress flooding out of me in a downpouring of saltwater, soaking his shirt, leaving my face swollen and puffy and my nose snotty. Slowly I hot ahold of myself and pulled back from him, wiping my face and nose with the back of my hand. "Sorry," I said, taking a step back, shaking my head, "Sorry, Roc, it's just been…Holy shit, what happened to your eye?" I asked really looking at him for the first time.

He smirked at me and motioned me to a booth. I grabbed my beer off the bar and ordered him one as he came up behind me. As I turned back to him I caught him eyeing a green shopping bag behind the bar. He tried to play it off but I had seen it and ignored it. I'd get my chance.

We slid into a booth and he laid out the gory details. The Russians, the boys, the visit the next morning, the hospital and now the jail.

"But they're okay?" I asked him when he finished.

"Yeah," he agreed, tapping ashes as I lit my own cigarette. "More or less in one piece."

I exhaled smoke through my nose, nicotine and relief racing through my body, my day's tension ebbing. "So they'll stay at the jail tonight?"

"Yup," he said, sipping his beer.

"So what precinct?" I asked, checking my pocket for my keys.

Roccos's eyes widened over the rim of his mug. Swallowing slowly, he put it down. "Um," he began, "Why?"

I frowned at him, my eyebrows gathering. "What the hell do you mean 'why'?" I asked. "So I can go see them."

"Uh, yeah," he began, looking down at his hands, "I –uh- can't tell you that."

I felt the expression drain from my face. "Really?" I asked, an audible chill in my voice. Rocco looked up at the sound of it then quickly back down at his hands. "Why not?"

"They, uh, kinda told me not to."

"Did they?" I asked, annoyance mixed with almost-anger creeping up my spine and coloring my words.

Rocco was, very wisely, keeping his eyes down as he nodded.

"Why, pray tell?"

"Um, well, they didn't want you to get mixed up in anything that might have come from all of this."

A twinge of appreciation threatened to flare up in my stomach, thinking it was very sweet that they thought of me, but the annoyance quickly stomped a steel-toed boot on it telling it to shut up. "Really?" I asked Rocco, as I heard my joints crack where my fingers had clenched white-knuckled around my lighter. "How very condescending of them."

Knowing Donna's propensity for random acts of violence, I figured Roc was fairly adept at avoiding conflicts with an unreasonable female when he needed to be and frankly he was doing fairly well. He looked from my hands up to my face then back down again, don't engage the crazy girl. IN spite of myself I snorted a little laugh through my nose and watched him tense. Honestly I couldn't imagine what was going through his head. First I was crying, then happy, then pissed and now bordering on hysteria. I was tempted to break into a manic giggle just to fuck with him, but it wasn't really his fault, so I reeled myself in, slowly releasing my death grip on the lighter and taking a few deep breaths. "It's ok, Roc," I said my voice even once more, and he looked up at me and I saw some of the tension leak from his shoulders. "You're just the messenger."

He sighed. "They really were just trying to help. Keep you out of trouble."

"Mm-hmm," I agreed. "Anything else they said?"

He cleared his throat, "Well, to tell you they'd see you as soon as they could when they got out."

I gathered my cigarettes and slid out of the booth. "Sure," I said standing. "If you see them before I do, tell them I'll be at home," I said the last word as I started for the door. I heard Rocco struggling for a response behind me as the door closed.

Lighting up, I crossed the street and entered another bar and took up a seat by the window, looking out, watching Doc's front door. I smoked and drank for 15 minutes until Rocco walked out empty-handed. I grinned, waited another ten, finished my beer and walked back across the street.

The afternoon guy was getting a little swamped and barely glanced up when I walked in. I headed back to the booth where I had been sitting alone, then moved to where Roc and I had been sitting, patting my pockets and looking confused. Scanning the floor I walked up to the bar and leaned. A couple of the regular guys asked me if I had heard anything from Connor, I answered vaguely. I hadn't heard from them, but they were both ok. Catching the sleeve of the afternoon guy as he rushed past I tugged, "Hey, I think I lost my keys in here, can you check if anybody's turned them in?"

"Um," he said, eyeing the rapidly filling bar and the two drinks in his hand.

"Oh right," I said, following his gaze, "Um, you think I could squeeze back there real quick and check?"

"Um," he said, looking up and down the bar. "Sure," he said as he rushed past. Nodding I squeezed around the back of the hardwood and headed for the little green shopping bag. Lifting it, I set it on top of the bar and started to rifle through the lost and found. "Find 'em?" he asked as he slid past me.

"No" I said, standing and exiting from behind the bar. "Guess I must have dropped em somewhere else. Thanks, though," I said, grabbing the bag from the bar and heading out the door. Once in the street, I pulled my keys from my pocket, tossing them and catching them.

_They__'__ll__see__me__when__they__can?_ I thought to myself as I headed for home. _Mm-hmm,__we__'__ll__see__how__badly__they__want__this__bag__when__they__get__out._I had no idea what was in it, but it was heavy as hell. I'd look when I got to the apartment. _Hmph,__protecting__me.__Like__I__'__m__some__delicate__flower__they__need__to__watch__out__for.__I__am__no__one__'__s__delicate__flower,__gentlemen,_ I thought to myself, as I walked. _Just__wait._


	4. Chapter 4

Apparently, however, despite all my tough thinking, I'm still enough of a delicate flower to have a full blown freak out, when I got home and checked in the bag.

The rolls of cash and bloody jewelry didn't give me much pause, but fuckin' hell those were huge firearms, I thought again as I sat on my couch in my pajamas staring at the innocent looking shopping bag as though something dangerous were going to crawl out of it.

Originally I had pulled the hand cannons out of the bag with two fingers and carried them into the kitchen sticking them in the oven. Then I thought better of it and put them in the fridge, then the freezer, then on top of the fridge. Then decided that was probably a bad idea, too. I could just see myself going for a soda in the middle of the night, jostling the fridge, knocking the gun to the ground and shooting myself in the foot. So eventually the damn things went back into the bag and I set myself up on the couch to watch them to make sure they didn't escape.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for guns in the hands of people who know how to use them. I, however, am not one of those people. As a kid I once shot a carny in the ass with and air rifle, haven't picked up a projectile weapon since.

Now there were two gigantic ones sitting in a paper bag in my living room. I lit a cigarette and inhaled thoughtfully. The boys would be here for them tomorrow, just had to keep from shooting myself until then. "I can do that," I said, pulling a worn paperback from the shelf and leafing through a few pages keeping an eye on the bag. Finally I gave up, tossing the book onto the couch beside me, snuffing out my cigarette and standing, stretching. It was two am. I didn't know when the boys would be around in the morning, but they were both disgustingly early risers, so I should probably get some sleep. Throwing one last suspicious look over my shoulder at the seemingly innocuous, somehow mockingly cheery bag, I padded into my bedroom to try to sleep.

When the heavy-handed pounding on my door woke me it was 10 am, and I stumbled out of my bedroom to the door. I didn't even bother to glance out the peephole. No one else I know goes visiting at 10 in the morning. Overnight I had prepared myself to be incredibly pissed off at them, but once I opened the door and two pairs of blue eyes met mine…my resolve crumbled.

"Oh fuck," I breathed as I hooked an arm around each of their necks and pulled them to me, and two pairs of arms encircled my waist and my ribs, squeezing. I inhaled deeply, catching whiffs of coffee and donuts plus Murphy and Connor's own unique scents all going straight into my brain and I got a little dizzy for a second. Connor's arms around my waist tightened as he nuzzled into my neck, softly kissing. Murphy's hand slid up and down my back, tracing my spine and I felt my thighs warm. They sensed the heat building in me and both moved in closer, so they were completely unprepared when I sank my teeth into Murphy's shoulder and grabbed a handful of Connor's hair and yanked.

As they both pulled back from me, cursing and looking betrayed, I felt a surge of protest rage through my body at the removal of their contact, but dammit, "You are *not* getting off that easy," I said, stepping into the apartment. "Come in and sit down," I said pointing to the couch.

They looked more than a little wary, but they obliged, and sat side by side each rubbing their respective wounds. I sat down on my coffee table, beside the bag and crossed my legs, looking at them seriously. "Look," I started, "I have a couple of things to say, but not knowing how it's gonna go over, I'm giving you your bag now," I said grabbing the flimsy handles and passing it to Murphy who set it down between their feet. He and Connor exchanged a look then turned back to me.

"Now," I began calmly, "what the hell is this all about not letting me know what's going on? You could have been dead and I wouldn't have known. Do you have any idea what that's like? Running around town like an idiot trying to track you down? And then when I finally find out you're okay, you two decide all on your own that I don't need to see you? What the fuck boys?" Ok, by the end of that I wasn't calm anymore.

"It wasn't that we didn't want to see ye, lass," Connor protested.

"We just thought it would have been better, for ye," Murphy continued.

"If no one knew you were involved with us," Connor picked up.

"In case anything came back from this. Not only just the Russians," Murphy trailed off.

"But the police as well," Connor finished.

I snorted. "Do you two honestly think that you're the first guys I've dated that I'd have to lie to the police about? I'm a good alibi and a good liar," I said, thinking back on the cop outside the flat, "provided that I have time to prepare," I amended.

They looked back and forth at each other for a minute, then down at their feet. Murphy looked back up at me, his eyes pinning mine. Oh hell, I thought, honesty, here we come. "We didn't want to force ye into that spot, girl."

"Wanted to leave ye an out, as it were," Connor said, his hand ghosting over my knee.

"We've had a bit of an awakening," Murphy said, his gaze shifting, his face reddening, like he was worried I might laugh.

"A calling, in a manner of speaking," Connor added.

I glanced back and forth between them. "If you're joining the priesthood, please tell me now, so I can haul ass to a confessional before I'm struck down by a bolt of lightning for all the nasty I've done with you both."

They grinned like school boys and some of the tension in them eased. "Nah, lass, nothin' like that, but what we'll be up to now," Connor trailed off.

Murphy picked up, "It'll be a good part south of legal in the strictest sense."

"Didn't want to figure on you being party to it," Connor added.

"Wanted you to stay clear."

"Safe."

"Don't want anything to happen to you because of us," Murphy finished.

I swallowed. Well, here we go. All night I had thought about what exactly all of this meant in terms of our 'arrangement' which if we were all completely honest had probably crossed the unspoken relationship border a couple of weeks back. They knew it. I knew it, but nobody had wanted to say anything. Didn't want to risk damage to the frail web of sex and emotion that we had all found ourselves wrapped up in. Afraid that if you looked at it too hard or too directly it would start to break apart like the last gossamer wisps of a dream upon waking. But here we still were, they had laid it bare for me. I, at least, owed them that much.

I met eyes with each of them in turn, inhaled, and spoke. "Ok," I began, "when I saw the news yesterday and all it said was two guys dead in an alley, in your alley, I thought I was gonna die. I'm still dealing with what exactly that means, but I think," I paused, my mouth going dry, so I swallowed a few times, and lit up, the boys following suit, both staring at me expectantly. I exhaled and continued, "I know it means I care for the two of you a lot more than I thought I did." I let the words tumble from my mouth before I regained my senses. I looked up at them, half-ass grinning at each other then returning their straight-faces gaze to me. I narrowed my eyes at them and continued. "Look, I'm not pledging undying love and I'm not expecting you to either, but you need to know that I'm in this until the end. I'm not going anywhere."

They exchanged another wordless glance that spoke volumes before they looked back at me. "Alright, lass," Connor said, finally, "if you're certain."

"Us as well," Murphy added.

"Good," I said nodding. "So, make room," I said, unfolding from my spot on the table and moving to sit between them, "And, please, get those huge guns away from me. You wouldn't believe how paranoid I've been all night that I was gonna shoot myself."

Connor shifted the bag to the far end of the couch. "The safeties are on, lass."

"Still. Oh, hey, injuries!" I exclaimed, suddenly, dashing for my bathroom and lugging my toolbox sized first aid kit back to the couch.

"Fuckin hell, girl," Murphy exclaimed rising to carry it for me.

"Thanks, Murph," I said, gratefully handing it off as I ducked into the kitchen to wash my hands.

"Were ye preparing for a war, lass?" Connor asked as I heard the box open.

"I told you that you're not the first boyfriends I've had that would on occasion need to be doctored up a bit outside of legal channels, so I started being prepared for anything. I can even stitch in a pinch," I said returning with a glass of water, and handing it to Connor. "Hold this," I said as I rifled through bottles and handed him one of almost prescription strength painkillers. "Take two, I don't know why you're limping, but I'm sure it hurts. These'll take the edge off, but shouldn't get you all fuzzy. Then I want to look at your wrists." I turned to Murphy. "So is that it?" I asked. "Just your head?" I asked, slowly peeling off the bandage and gingerly probing around the cut on his forehead.

"Aye," he said, wincing, "unless you wanna look at the bite on my neck?"

"Oh, shut up," I said, grinning, pulling a tube of antiseptic ointment and applying a thin layer. "I've done worse to you in bed."

"Aye, but then I was expecting it."

"Poor baby," I said turning his head so I could see his neck. I hadn't broken the skin, but as pale as he was the bite was very clearly defined. Pulling him closer I kissed all around the outline of my teeth, before running my tongue over the bite mark itself, then breathing on it. I felt Murphy shiver under my hands, and I smiled against his skin, kissing my way up his jawline to his mouth. His lips parted against my own and his tongue found its way into my mouth. He tasted like coffee and doughnuts and cigarettes and I could smell his minty denim scent mixed with what I vaguely recalled as the scent of jail blankets. His fingers found my hair clip and removed it, freeing my locks so he could bury his hands in them. I moaned against him, my arms finding his shoulders of their own accord and pulling him closer to me.

Behind me I heard Connor suck in a breath through his teeth and I pulled away from Murphy to face Connor who had just finished unwrapping his wrists. "Holy hell, Connor," I gasped, putting my back to Murphy, I cradled Connor's wounded wrists in my hands. "There's hardly any skin left at all. Doesn't this hurt?"

"Meh, it's not too bad, lass," he said as I saw him out of my peripheral vision gloating in Murphy's direction.

I raised my head to look at him and his face snapped back to miserable patient. "Oh and your head, too," I gushed, fawning over him, feeling Murphy's heat rise at my back. "I can clean this up and rewrap it. What about food? Have you eaten?" I asked glancing back at Murphy who was glaring at Connor.

"Eaten? Naw, girl, a doughnut before we left the jail."

"Do you mind? There's a menu with specials stuck to the fridge for the Chinese place around the corner. They deliver and they're usually pretty quick."

Murphy huffed out a breath like a petulant ten year old, but hauled himself off the sofa and clomped to the kitchen.

"Alone at last," Connor said, grabbing me around the waist and swinging me onto his lap.

"You're obviously not too badly injured," I said softly, grinding against his obvious erection.

"Told ye I wasn't," he agreed, pushing my hair back out of my face and locking his lips onto mine. He was aggressive…technically I think the correct term is horny, but who's asking. His tongue probed my mouth until he got a handful of my hair and pulled (I think he was just getting revenge, but I didn't care) exposing my neck to him which he licked and suckled until I thought I would pass out. It wasn't until he wrapped one arm around my waist to pull me down hard onto his lap that the naked skin of his wrist rasped harshly against the cotton of my tank and he inhaled sharply.

"I told you," I said, disentangling myself from him, "to let me wrap that up," I said as I stood retying the drawstring on my pants and pulling down my shirt that had somehow gotten rucked up to just below my breasts. Apparently I had been a little more happy to see him than I thought. "Now I have to go wash my hands again. Stay right there," I said looking down at his lap, "and think of, I don't know, dead puppies and kittens."


	5. Chapter 5

Murphy was hanging up my wall phone as I walked in and headed for the sink. "Fella said twenty minutes, til I told him the address then he said ten."

I laughed in the back of my throat. "I'm a good customer," I said as I lathered my hands. I felt him press in behind me, his hands settling on the counter on either side of my hips, pinning me in. I leaned back against him, my body molding to his in all the right places, resting my head on his chest, "I was so worried about the two of you," I whispered almost to myself.

"We know. We spoke to Roc this morning."

"Oh Christ," I sighed, leaning forward again, to finish with my hands. "Did he tell you I cried on his chest?"

"He mentioned it," he whispered into my hair, as he leaned down, pressing against me again as I turned off the faucet.

"I'll never live that down," I sighed as Murphy brushed my hair aside and placed a soft kiss on my shoulder, then my neck, then my ear. "Oh fuck, Murphy, that feels good," I moaned, reaching back to touch him only to realize that I'd just have to wash my hands again. About then Murphy gripped my hips and lifted me, nearly putting my head in the sink as my body bent forward at the waist over the counter, when Murphy pushed my shirt up to my shoulderblades, his fingers and tongue exploring my back as his hips held me in place, my feet a couple inches off the ground. "Oh God, Murph," I half-moaned, half-cried as he grabbed my hips again, flipping me onto my back, banging my head on the faucet.

"Ow," I sighed.

"Sorry," he said as he grabbed my wrist, pulling me into a sitting position before he grabbed my knees and hooked my legs over his hips. Afraid I was going to slide off the counter, I scrambled for purchase and got hold of his coat and held on as his mouth assaulted mine. Spinning us around, he pressed my back against the fridge as he ground into me. I gasped into his mouth and bucked a little as his hands grabbed hold of my ass and squeezed. I dug my heels into his back and started trying to peel off his coat, just as I heard Connor clear his throat from somewhere to my right.

Murphy and I froze, mid-motion. Murphy withdrew his mouth enough for me to turn my head to face Connor. "I was on my way back. Really, I was," I said as Murphy lowered me to the floor. Settling my clothes back, I moved towards Connor who was leaning in the doorway of my kitchen, in all of his shirtless beauty.

"Come on," I said, resting a hand against his constantly warm skin, the muscles of his stomach, jumping slightly under my touch. "Let me wrap you back up," I said as I tried to brush past him, but he moved to block me. He wrapped his hand around mine, lifting it to his mouth, gently brushing his lips over each of my fingertips. I sighed, feeling the warmth of arousal seeping down my arm and spreading rapidly. My hips had shifted unconsciously toward Connor when Murphy's hands lighted on them, then slid around to my belly as he molded his body to mine from behind.

Connor stepped further forward and pinned me between them, Murphy leaned down to kiss along my shoulder as Connor attacked my lips, still swollen from his brother's kiss. I moaned into his mouth as my fingers clawed at his chest, his hands on either side of my face, his fingers in my hair, his thumbs under my eyes. I leaned into him as Murphy withdrew from behind me. I whined against Connor and tried to see where Murphy had gone, but Connor refocused on my mouth and slid his hands down over my shoulders, catching the straps of my tank as he went, pulling it down my arms, exposing my nipples to the chill of the room. They hardened against his chest as he pushed closer to me, warming me with lust and his own body heat.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as his hands slid over my ribcage, his thumbs trailing across my nipples as they went. At my waist they slid around my hips and I felt him tremble against me slightly as the flayed skin around his wrists scraped against my pants. "Watch your wrists," I panted against his mouth, pulling away slightly to make sure he hadn't started bleeding again.

"Fuck my wrists," he said, closing his mouth back over mine.

I laughed deep in my throat and squeaked into his mouth when his hands came to rest on the back of my thighs then pulled up, yanking me off my feet and settling me comfortably on his hips. Squeezing with my knees and keeping a grip with both arms around his neck I was able to support myself, and Connor's hands slid back up my body, touching my face, pushing my hair back, his eyes intense.

Murphy now out of his coat and shirt, pressed to my back, his mouth on my neck, my shoulders, my back. His fingers crept around my middle, sliding between me and Connor, deftly undoing the tie that held my pants on my hips. The waistband now loosened they both slid a hand inside, working the pants down to below my ass.

One had a knuckle nuzzled to my clit and the other a finger as deep inside of me as it would go and I couldn't believe that at one point I had considered * NOT * doing this. I leaned back against Murphy, my mouth open, my eyes unfocused as he guided my head to his shoulder, then stepped slowly backwards stretching my body out between the two of them like some kind of obscene limbo pole.

Their hands traded positions, Murphy now too far away to finger me properly instead gently tugged at my clit and Connor plunged two fingers into me.

My back arched, my legs contracted pulling Connor closer to me, I reached both arms back, sinking my nails into Murphy's shoulders. He hissed briefly as he looked down at me, his eyes twin points of blue firelight, and attacked my mouth.

Connor's hand at my back lifted gently, pulling my chest slightly closer to him. Murphy's tongue was still in my mouth when Connors lips and teeth closed on my nipple.

I cried out loud into Murphy's mouth, and he swallowed my moans, reaching his free hand around my side to tweak my other nipple. Grinding my hips down onto their hands, Murphy's mouth on mine and Connor's on my nipple, I didn't think it was possible to feel any more pleasure, until Connor's hand shifted against me and his fingers rubbed hard across my G-spot. My head rocked back of its own volition, pulling my lips from Murphy's as a scream ripped from my throat.

Connor removed his mouth from my breast with an audible pop, grinning at me like a kid, "Hit a nerve, did I, lass?"

My eyes half-dilated and my body jangling I looked down my body at him. I regained control over the speech center of my brain and replied, "In the name of all that is good and holy, Connor… Do. That. Again."

I felt Murphy smirk against my throat as he nuzzled in, sliding his hand away from my breast, around my ribcage.

"This?" Connor asked, his fingers stroking my spot again as Murphy's hand ghosted, feather light over the 'hot spot' at the base of my spine.

My body bowed so violently and suddenly that it actually brought them a stumbling step closer together. "Yeah," I cried, panting, "yeah, that."

"We can do that," Murphy said, his breath hot and wet against my neck.

Connor's fingers inside of me became rougher. Frantic, and Christ it was incredible. He licked small circles on my belly and blew on them, sending goosebumps all over my heated skin. Murphy's fingers continued toying with my clit as his other hand played over my back. He nipped and kissed his way along my neck and jaw, leaving my mouth free to moan, which was pretty much unavoidable at this point.

Connor shifted slightly, getting his hips behind the movement of his hand somehow and the added pressure and friction was very quickly pushing me towards what I was anticipating to be a very intense climax.

My toes curled against Connors back and my nails clawed at Murphy's shoulders. In the tight enclosure of my kitchen, the scent of them was overpowering, mixed with the smell of my own arousal.

My body tensed with the building release, and Murphy moved towards Connor, pressing my chest against Connor and aligning Murphy's chest with my back. The boys' bodies were both slick with sweat, Connor's radiator-like heat pressed to my stomach and breasts and Murphy's slightly cooler chest and arms formed to my back and sides. Each one reached up at the same moment and each took hold of one breast and the dual sensations of heat and cool along with the pressure of their calloused fingers against my painfully hardened nipples was enough to push me over the edge and I came hard enough to stop breathing for an instant.

I could feel my muscles contract and clamp around Connor's fingers still inside me, my heels pressing painfully into his kidneys, and my nails clawing in Murphy's flesh, as my entire body clenched in the rush of my orgasm. I bucked between the two of them, our bodies sliding over each other, skin well lubricated by our mutual exertion. My throat was raw and I became aware of the fact that I must have been screaming, and if I got brave enough later I would ask them whose name I was calling. I heaved out a sigh and fell against Connor's shoulder, my body still spasming when I heard a bell.


	6. Chapter 6

Ridiculously, I assumed it was somehow connected to the ecstasy I was still riding high on, but looking at the boys somewhat nervous glances, I realized I had actually probably just heard the doorbell. I swallowed a few times, wetting my throat, "Probably just the food," I croaked.

They both looked at me, for a second, before I felt some of the tension drain from the bodies pressed in on either side of me. "Oh aye," Connor said, sliding his hands to my ankles, still locked around his waist.

"Forgot about that," Murphy said as he grabbed me under the arms and lowered me to the floor. "Can ye stand, girl?"

"Yeah," I said, lazily contented. "I think so." I stumbled on wobbly legs to the door, righting my clothes along the way. When I had safely recovered my modesty and more or less righted my hair, I opened the door on the security chain and looked out. Sure enough it was Jin, the delivery guy. "Hey Jin, give me a second, huh?" I said as I closed the door. Turning to grab my purse, I saw the boys tucking the gigantic firearms back into the bag, and I arched an eyebrow.

They both put on innocent expressions and I rolled my eyes, grabbing my checkbook and opened the door. "Lots of food today," Jin said handing over bag after bag.

"Yeah," I agreed, filling out my check, my legs still liquid and barely holding me upright.

"She has company today," Connor said, stepping up behind me, slinging an arm over my shoulder, possessively, and tucking a thumb into his pocket.

Jin just smiled.

"Lots of company," Murphy said, swinging the door wide, revealing himself also bare to the waist as he knelt at my opposite side and started nuzzling my belly.

Still high from my orgasm, my knees threatened to give out and my eyes rolled back in my head a little before I caught myself.

Jin, to his eternal credit, looked like he couldn't have cared less, but I felt heat flare across my cheeks, just the same, as I passed him my check which included a healthy tip. "My boyfriend and his brother. They're very physical."

Jin just nodded. "I brought extra Sweet and Sour for you," he said taking my check. "See you next time."

"Yeah, bye," I said, waving as I closed the door. "You two are horrible," I said stepping out from between them, hauling food to the coffee table as they laughed hysterically. "Come on," I said, motioning, as I sat on the floor, gingerly, my, ahem, area, still a bit sore. "Connor, sit still and let me get your wrists taped up."

It went on like that for a couple of hours. I finally got Connor to sit still long enough for me to get his wrists disinfected and rewrapped. We ate until I thought we were all going to throw up. The boys killed the last four beers I had in the house, and I know that we burned through at least a pack of cigarettes a piece.

It was relaxing. At one point, Murphy slid down from the sofa and sat behind me, his legs on either side of me, and leaned me back into his chest, his arms around my middle, absently stroking my distended belly. We all talked and smoked.

When Murphy got up to take a leak, Connor moved into his spot behind me and curled me against his chest, my ear flat, listening to his heartbeat as he stroked my hair. Murphy eyed him viciously when he came back, but he sat on the couch and lit up. We talked and smoked some more.

It was still early afternoon, when Connor kissed my forehead and stood up announcing that they had to go. Murphy stood beside him, the bag in his hand and they both pulled me to my feet.

"Will you be back tonight?" I asked.

They looked at each other then back at me. "Um," Connor began.

"Uh," Murphy echoed.

I shook my head and raised my hands. "Forget I asked," I said, sighing, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Look," I began, "I don't need to know where you are every minute, I'm not your mother. And I don't need either of you putting yourself at risk because you had to check in with me. You don't have to tell me what you're planning, I'm probably better off not knowing, but just promise me one thing?"

"What, lass?"

"If there's gonna be something on the news or in the paper the next day that's gonna make me worry… just call me before I see it and let me know that you're okay?"

They glanced at each other before Murphy nodded and turned to me, "Aye, girl. We can do that."

"Okay," I nodded, pushing past them, bending down into my closet and rummaging around. Eventually I came up with what I was looking for then headed for the jeans I'd taken off the night before. "Okay," I repeated as I turned out all the pockets. "Here," I said palming the key ring, "is a spare key to my apartment. Anytime, and I mean anytime, you need off the street or you need to patch up you come here, you know where I keep the first aid kit and I'll keep food and beer in the fridge. Also, if you call me at work and I can't get to the phone, leave me a message that Doc is ok, I'll know what it means. Alright?"

They both were fighting smiles at my Cloak and Dagger plot, but I didn't care. I wanted to keep track of their well-being, so sue me.

"Okay and here," I said, handing over two black ski masks I had picked up over the years. "Whatever you're doing, it's probably better to keep your faces hidden."

They did both smile then as they stuffed the masks in their coat pockets and Murphy put my key in his jeans.

"Don't laugh," I said, mock scorn in my voice, "they'll come in handy." They both just nodded, avoiding my eyes, grinning. "Okay, hug me. I know you have things to do."

They both leaned in and I was overcome again by the sheer relief that they were okay and the comfort that I felt with both of their arms around me. Natural. Home.

Oh, God.

I breathed deep the combined scent of them before stepping back. "Let me know you're okay."

"Aye," Connor said, opening the door.

"We will," Murphy said, stepping through into the hallway. Connor followed him out and closed the door behind them.

I was standing there telling myself that it was fine that I hadn't kissed them when they left. It's not like it was goodbye. Right? They'd be fine. If I didn't see them tonight I'd see them soon. Right?

No big deal.

So not a big deal.

Totally a big deal.

I was reaching for the knob to follow them when it turned under my hand, as Murphy opened it from the outside. One hand snaked forward catching me around the waist and pulled me to him roughly.

His mouth covered mine and he kissed me thoroughly. His hand at my waist, slid south, gently kneading my ass as the other tangled itself in my hair, holding the back of my head in place, not allowing me a chance to break away. I kissed him back with everything I had, wrapping my arm around his neck, I ran my fingers over the spiky hairs at the back of his neck and felt him shudder against me. I hooked my foot around his calf, molding our bodies together. My fingers splayed against his scalp, relishing the feel of his hair against them.

Slowly the desperate heat drained from our bodies and we slowly separated. Our foreheads together, breathing heavy, hearts racing, Murphy swallowed and spoke, "I had to-," he trailed off.

I nodded, "Me too," I replied, running my finger down the side of his face. He nodded back, stepping out of the door allowing me into the hall where Connor stood in front of the elevators.

It started out as walking towards him, then it was running and then I had flung myself at him, wrapping my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck, my lips on his. He stumbled to keep his balance but he managed, and once he stabilized he returned my kiss with and effort that stole my breath. I could feel my lips bruising under the assault but his hands on my face were no less than gentle. My head started to get a little fuzzy, and I sucked in a deep breath through my nose, overdosing on his scent and I ground my hips against his. He moaned into my mouth, then pulled back. "Don't be starting anything you'll not be able to finish, lass."

I laughed, climbing down from him as Murphy sauntered down the hall towards us. Connor took one of my hands in his and kissed my knuckles and Murphy leaned in, smelling my hair and kissed my head. "Please, be careful," I said as they stepped into the elevator.

"Aye, girl," Murphy said as he pushed the button.

"Call ye tonight," Connor said as the doors closed.

I padded back down the hall to my apartment, found some clothes and threw them on. I headed over to the boys place to pick up my bag. Also to let their neighbor know they were alright, and maybe take her up on that cup of tea.

It was well after ten when I got home and turned on the TV. That Sally McBride chick was rambling on about something and I turned it up. "…notorious Russian Crime Syndicate." Then my phone rang.

"Lass?"

"Connor," I sighed, closing my eyes in relief, "and Murph?"

"He's fine, we're at Roc's, we'll stay here tonight. Maybe see you tomorrow or the day after, yeah?"

I nodded, "Ok."

I could hear Murphy's voice in the background, then I heard Rocco shout, "What?"

"What?" I asked.

"Murphy says think of us if ye play with yourself while we're gone."

I laughed, "Fuck the pair of you."

I could hear Rocco in the background, "I fuckin' knew! I knew she was fucking you both! I fucking knew!"

I rolled my eyes, "I'll see you when I see you, then."

"All right. Night." Then he was gone.

I walked back to the couch and settled in as I watched Sally McBride go on and on about these nine dead Russian mobsters in a penthouse at Copley Plaza.

I'm not sure exactly when in the newscast it started to sink in that my boys may have been responsible, but by the end I was certain.

I turned off the TV and hugged a pillow to my chest. "Oh boys, what the hell have you gotten yourselves into?"

This, I had a horrible feeling was going to end badly.


End file.
